


Talking With Ghosts

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Cemetery, Gen, Grief, Tension, friendship?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she doesn't know what it's like, no one does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking With Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justanothersong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothersong/gifts).



> I had a random idea after watching _100_ for the umpteenth time.

The loose soil had been tamped back into place, but the gravestone wasn't in place yet. There was a little placard in the spot where it would be set, heavy white cardboard mounted on a small black stand. Haley's name was written on it in bold black letters. He'd had the stone engraved with her name, and four fitting words to go along with it - ' _Devoted Mother, Beloved Wife._ ' Jessica had approved of the simple sentiment. 

Aaron had been sitting in the same spot for twenty minutes. It was November, and the day was clear and cold. His legs were going numb, but he didn't move. To move was to leave her, and since they'd been apart when she died he didn't want to walk away just yet. Not for a little while.

The rage that had filled him when he'd put his hands on Foyet was long gone, leaving him scooped out. Not empty, because empty meant absence. Instead, the fury had faded to be replaced by a despairing grief that was so all-consuming he could barely breathe. He'd known Haley, loved Haley, for so long that knowing she was no longer there was like having just had his arm chopped off at the shoulder. He could still feel the limb, he just knew down in his soul that it was long gone.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was toneless when he said it, and he plucked at the grass with one hand. If he had taken the deal, acquiesced to the Reaper's wishes, could this have been avoided? Dave had told him that he wasn't to blame for Foyet's murders in the present, that the lives he took were not anyone's responsibility but that of the man who had done the killing. On some level, Aaron knew his friend was right, but the knowledge of that was buried under an avalanche of sorrow. Haley had been innocent, no matter that they'd been divorced. More than that, she'd been Jack's mother, and in a way she'd died protecting him. The profiler wiped absently at a tear as it rolled down his cheek, the fingers nerveless. He kept a picture of her in his wallet, a memento of happier times. In case his son - _their_ son - ever forgot what his mother looked like.

The inquiry had gone in his favor. Erin Strauss had revealed herself to be human after all and ruled that his explanation was sufficient for her. That she had then proceeded to offer him retirement did not escape Aaron's attention, but he was too numb to examine that. Jessica had been helping to care for Jack in the wake of the funeral. On more than one occasion, he'd found the boy watching old home movies of himself and Haley. And sometimes he slept in his room. 

"Haley." It was a whisper, more breath than words.

"Hotch."

The profiler lifted his eyes from the white placard very slowly, and the grass he'd absent-mindedly uprooted fell from his fingers. He looked at his hand, found it smudged with dirt. He wiped it on his trouser leg, streaking the darker cloth. The voice was coming to him from a distance of both time and miles, a single word hailing him. Aaron looked over his shoulder, and then up. A dull surprise came over him, but nothing more.

"You let your hair grow out."

To say that Elle had kept tabs on her former co-workers would have been an exaggeration. When she'd walked away, she'd meant for the break to be clean and permanent. For a while, she even stopped following the news, just in case there might be a mention of the team in a context she didn't care to think about. That part of her life was over.

Still. Every now and then she'd get curious, or she'd hear something random and allow herself to look into it. The internet was a wonderful thing. She studied the man sitting on the ground, took a half-step towards him. He looked older. He looked tired. Not just tired, he looked _exhausted_. They'd parted on uneasy terms, and the woman he was mourning had been a stranger to her. The silence lasted for several minutes.

"Confessing your sins?" Elle said it without rancor, and despite himself the dullness in Aaron's eyes retreated the tiniest fraction. He looked away from her, shifted his position. His forearms came to rest on his now-bent legs. The breeze had picked up, rustling the leafless branches of the nearby trees.

"No."

"Mmm."

The brunette came to stand next to him, then took a seat on the grass. He'd been her friend once, not just her boss, and other than Reid he'd been the one she'd missed the most at first. That it should be stoic, straight-laced Hotch who had crossed the line, the one she'd come to on this crisp, bright day, was both baffling and yet not altogether surprising. Still waters ran very deep, and the undertow could carry anyone away if they weren't expecting it. Elle looked at him sideways.

"Where are you these days?"

He asked it by rote, and she shrugged one shoulder. "North." She'd gone home to Brooklyn for a while, but it had become claustrophobic, and so she'd left again. She was currently living in Ontario, and at one point she'd been engaged but had broken it off. She worked for a travel agency. Aaron's dark dress pants were a sharp contrast to her blue jeans.

"You still loved her." It wasn't a question.

He nodded in silence, and the hurt in what she could see of his expression made her look away. She understood more now than she had back then, and she wasn't looking to stick the knife in any deeper. The dark lettering on the placard was a stark contrast to the white background. Elle read it and re-read it while Aaron sat next to her. The bare trees made a _sss-sss-sss_ noise.

"Is this what you felt?"

The ex-profiler paused, and her sharp features narrowed as her expression shifted. She'd never admitted guilt when she'd resigned, and to do so now would be to violate the contract she'd made with herself after she'd pulled that trigger three years ago. But she felt the urge to give Hotch - Aaron - something, and so she told a half-truth.

"No. I was...relieved when it was done, and more relieved that I'd never have to do it again. I kept others from being hurt. You saved your son's life."

He made a noise, a bitter sound, but on some level he was afraid she was right. "So we're alike now?"

" _No_ , Aaron," Elle said sharply. "I can't _imagine_ coming home to find...that. But you stood strong for Jack because you had to." She'd read the online accounts repeatedly; George Foyet's ambush of the U.S. Marshal responsible for looking after Haley and Jack, the subsequent murder of Hotch's ex, the official investigation. Like her, he'd been cleared, and maybe there was some part of her that felt justified about that. Elle rubbed the back of her neck. She _had_ let her hair grow after she'd left. It was now longer than it had ever been, to the middle of her back. Somewhere, a bird let out a piercing call.

"You never called me Aaron before."

It was an inane thing to say, and Aaron watched as his former colleague looked off towards the far end of the graveyard. Her shoulders went up and down.

"I figured it out, y'know. Later, after everything was finished and I was gone. This..." Elle pointed to her chest, at the spot where she still bore a scar. "...this wasn't your doing."

Aaron's mouth opened, then closed. She'd accused him of it when she was unraveling, and he'd borne it in silence. He swung his eyes back towards the place where his former wife's headstone would be placed. He remembered the happy times. Their wedding day, the joy of Jack's birth, the hope and promise of the future. Beside him, Elle put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't look at her, and he didn't because he couldn't. She wasn't looking at him either.

"Thank you." In a way, Elle was a ghost too, as lost to him as his first real love. Her fingers tightened, then let go completely. He hadn't expected anything less.

"Yeah, well." There was a silence, and Aaron broke it by saying, "How long will you be in town?"

"I only came for this," the brunette replied. She had a new life now, and if she remained, she might decide to stay. The lure of the past was strong. Too strong. Next to her, Aaron nodded.

"Don't tell the others that I was here, that you saw me. I don't want to...cause any problems."

"Not even Reid?"

She made a noise that was almost a laugh, but she wouldn't look at him. Better to leave Spencer unchanged in her mind, keep him as the sweet, awkward young man he'd been when she'd been his friend. She'd opened the door wide enough. Now she must close it again.

"Especially not Reid. He went through my leaving once before. I couldn't do it to him again."

The two of them sat in silence for another few minutes, Aaron studying the placard and Elle trailing her fingers through the grass. He would bring Jack here when the gravestone was placed. They would bring Haley's favorite flowers, and they would mourn together. Father and son, missing a wife and a mother.

"It gets better, Aaron, it really does." So strange to call him Aaron when he'd been Hotch to her for as long as she'd known him before. Elle mourned for her own losses as she sat there, for the friends and the life she'd had. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.

"I should go. I booked a room, and I'd like to catch some sleep before I head back." She used her arms for balance and stood up, then brushed at the seat of her jeans. The sun had moved a little, and it shone directly on her dark hair, lightening it a couple of shades.

"Thank you for coming, Elle. I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised. You always did know how to do the unexpected."

She smiled down at him, and for a second he saw her as the woman she'd been. "Tell your kid he's damned lucky," she said, then tucked her hands into her pockets. "For her and for you."

The brunette walked away before he could respond, and he watched her go without trying to call her back. He would keep this small secret to himself as she'd asked. Some doors, once closed, could never be fully opened again, and sometimes...sometimes that was for the best.


End file.
